


"We're not babies, though."

by Jasper_Ghost



Category: The Outsiders - All Media Types
Genre: Comfort, M/M, Playful fights, Storms, Two's a baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:02:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27621760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jasper_Ghost/pseuds/Jasper_Ghost
Summary: Tim and Two-Bit have a sleepover at Darry's place.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	"We're not babies, though."

**Author's Note:**

  * For [botanicalTJ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/botanicalTJ/gifts).



Harsh winds blew against the trees, their grayed branches waved in violent movements, dull leaves being shaken from their holds. They fluttered to the ground with quick twirls. The sky was a dull blue, no brightness in sight, no cracks, no crevices. Nothing. The clouds just all muddled together.

Despite the bitter weather, three boys still were full of excitement, all their minds racing with all the fun thoughts of what their sleepover was going to be like. None of them really had sleepovers before, or, at least, not often, so they had every right to be excited!

Sitting on the couch in front of the living room window, Darry stared outside, his teal eyes wide and darting over to anything or everything that moved. He accidentally locked his gaze with a lady walking with her children, and he guessed his stare was rather frightening, as she hurried her children along the sidewalk to get away from his penetrating eyes. He laughed, but it didn’t deter him from his determined wait.

Finally, he saw a dark-haired boy come into his sight, his spine straightening immediately. Their eyes met, and he waved, a wide smile on his face. He hopped up from the couch and opened the door right before Tim was going to touch the knob. 

“Hey,” he greeted cooly, walking inside when Darry stepped out of his path politely. He kicked off his shoes beside the door and smiled at him. “Is Keith here yet?” he asked, adjusting his bag on his shoulder, which Darry reached out to take from him out of habit thanks to his parents constantly telling him to be polite to guests.

“Uh, not yet. He called a half-hour ago to say he may be late. His mom’s car ain’t workin’ right, so he’s walkin’,” Darry explained, awkwardly taking his hand back before he could take the bag’s strap into his hold.

Tim huffed amusedly, “Hope he knows to wear a coat or else he’s going to become a sculpture ‘fore he makes it halfway.” Darry only rolled his eyes, stepping over to the living room couch again to continue his wait.

“He ain’t dumb, Tim.”  
  


“He is missing bits of brain, though,” Tim reminded in a joking tone, joining him at the couch, bag on the floor next to them. “He doesn’t know a difference between an apple and orange.”

“Tim, yes, he does.”

  
“I’m _jokin’_.”

They left the topic there, continuing to chat about other things while waiting for the redhead to show up. It took a while, but eventually, he came trudging along the sidewalk, his nose and cheeks pink, uncovered from the scarf that was probably forced around his neck by his mother. His lips were parted, probably panting, and he looked tired. Tim and Darry got up from the couch quickly to greet him halfway up the front path.

“Hey… guys,” Two-Bit smiled weakly, his pants soft, yet still audible above the blowing of the wind.

“You get chased here, Keith?” Tim laughed, patting the boy’s back, nearly making him topple forward as he walked up the steps. The long walk made his legs weak and numb, just barely holding him up.

“No,” he took a deep inhale and chuckled as he exhaled, “jus’ haven’t walked that far before.”

Tim laughed again, and Darry took Two-Bit’s bag from him as he opened the door. It was surprisingly heavy. No wonder Two-Bit was breathing so hard. It was weighing him down. What did he have in there?

“Is your mom’s car okay?” Darry asked, dropping the bag off on the couch as soon as he could, his arm getting almost painfully tugged on. “If she needs help gettin’ to work and all, she can ask my folks to drive her.”

“Just somethin’ froze with the battery or whatever starts the car, accordin’ to her,” Two-Bit huffed, shrugging his shoulders, clearly happy that the weight of his backpack was no longer forcing him to walk or stand with a painful slouched posture. Thirty more minutes like that, and he was sure his spine would snap. That wouldn’t be pretty. “Don’t worry, she’s okay.”

Two-Bit took off all his winter gear that he softly cursed his mother out for making him wear. It was an amusing sight, seeing all the unnecessary layers come off. He was even wearing two jackets. What mother would make a kid wear two jackets in Oklahoma? That question made Tim snicker, having walked there in just a sweatshirt and jeans, not even shivering once. 

“Your mother’s funny,” he said, staring at the pile of warmth that the redhead had just stripped off. “Never thought a mom could be that concerned over a little chill.”

Darry scooped the winter gear into his arms and took it to the coat closet, neatly hanging all of it on hangers and closing the door, all the amusement leaving as he closed the door. “She just wants to make sure, Keith— Two-Bit, sorry— is okay.”

“Oh, forgot that was your new nickname. Thought it was still ‘crybaby,’” Tim grinned, earning a shove from Two-Bit.

“It never _was_ ‘crybaby’, Tim. I’ve never cried once in school!” Two-Bit grunted.

“I _do_ have last year’s yearbook.”

“ _Tiiiiim_.”

“Guys, knock it off,” Darry groaned, “today’s meant to be fun.”

Tim and Two-Bit stopped their small shoving fight reluctantly and looked over at Darry. 

“My parents said we could use the treehouse tonight to sleep in. But if it rains, we have to come inside,” Darry announced to lighten the mood and spark excitement, which did excite the other two boys, their eyes lighting up immediately. The treehouse in the backyard was _their_ hangout. It was built on Darry’s eleventh birthday, a gift that had Mr. Curtis stressed over to get done, and it still wasn’t completely finished. However, it had a roof, floor, walls, and even a window with a pulley system that Darry made soon after he saw it. It was perfect in his eyes, and he, Two-Bit, and Tim made it their hideout. Ponyboy and Sodapop and Brenda were occasionally allowed up there, but it was for men only, according to them. None of them even had beard or chest hair yet, not really men, but they didn’t touch on that.

“We can?” Two-Bit gasped. Darry nodded, glad at the response. He had to beg his mom and dad for hours to let them sleep up there. They didn’t think it was safe despite his father having made sure that all the boards were secure and sturdy. Plus, Tim had slept up there a few times before on his own. He was safe and nothing bad happened. That information, however, wouldn’t be the smartest to bring up to Darry’s protective parents. Luckily, and thankfully, the begging was enough to convince them. 

“I already got everythin’ set up, got extra blankets and pillows up there. Even got a few games and snacks up there. Just, uh, don’t tell my mom I took anythin’ from the pantry,” Darry pleaded even though he knew neither of his buddies would tell on him. And just as he suspected, Two-Bit and Tim both laughed and assured that they wouldn’t tell. 

They then decided to wait a few hours before heading outside to the treehouse, wanting to make sure that no one could interrupt them, flashlights and moonlight being the only thing aiding their activities. They’re big kids now, they deserved privacy without parents or siblings poking in every few minutes.

The Curtis parents came home, the family truck rumbling into the driveway. The three boys were sitting on the couch, sharing a blanket while watching television. They were thankful no one was bruised or hurt from any fights, knowing that Two-Bit and Tim tended to do so. Luckily, they just weren’t there when fights happened. They had fought over what channel they were going to watch. Tim wanted scary movies while Two-Bit wanted cartoons— Tim called him childish for wanting to watch cartoons at eleven years old. Two-Bit ended up smacking him. Then, there was smacking from Tim. 

Darry was sitting between the two to prevent any more fights. In the end, they decided on what Darry wanted to watch— westerns. Which was something all three of them enjoyed without argument. 

“You three haven’t claimed the treehouse yet?” Mrs. Curtis asked, tossing her jacket onto her chair beside her husband’s. Her eyes darted to the window, brow creased with worry at the trashing branches and dark sky. “Y’all maybe shouldn’t—”

“Mom, _no_ ,” Darry immediately protested, head snapping towards her. “C’mon we can handle a little wind.”

“But, honey. You’ll be cold and then get sick,” she explained, her red-painted lips pulled into a frown. 

“We’re not babies, though. We can handle it, _please_.”

“Darry…”

“Mom.”

Mrs. Curtis sighed and stopped, hands raised weakly in defeat. Mr. Curtis came back into the living room with a confused look on his face when seeing the sad expressions displayed by both his wife and son. She gave him a glance that told him to ask later when they were preparing supper.

“Alright, well, tonight we’re havin’ lasagna tonight, boys. Make sure y’all are hungry,” she informed them as she moved to the kitchen, her husband following behind her, ready to ask and pester her for what just happened.

Darry exhaled softly and turned back around, slumping against the cushions. Two-Bit patted his shoulder, murmuring, “At least we can still go outside!” to him to cheer him up. Darry smiled and nodded. 

The house warmed pleasantly as the lasagna cooked in the oven, outside looking worse by the minute, making Mr. and Mrs. Curtis worry more for the boys. It was bad enough that Sodapop and Ponyboy were out with friends of their own, unable to be in the safety of their house with the weather acting up as bad as it was.

“Kids, supper,” Mrs. Curtis called out, her voice a tad high from stress. Mr. Curtis finished setting up the kitchen table, and he stepped out of the way so his wife could place the hot pan on the center of the table. “Kids! Supper!”

“We’re here, ma,” Darry murmured, sliding into his usual seat, Two-Bit on his left, Tim on his right. 

“Oh, sorry, baby,” she chuckled softly. She cut up the lasagna, and she dished out a slice onto everyone’s plate, offering vegetables to each of them like all is normal. Her husband subtly patted her back when she finally sat down.

“So what’re you boys plannin’ on doin’?” Mr. Curtis asked to break the odd silence that fell over the room, ignoring the sharp look he got from Mrs. Curtis.

“Just gonna sleep in the treehouse,” Darry stated simply, shrugging his shoulders.

“That all?”

“Yeah—”

“We’re also gonna tell ghost stories!” Two-Bit chirped. He looked over at Tim and Darry and grinned wide. “I brought a book from the library.”

Mr. Curtis held back a laugh, knowing how Two-Bit was when it came to reading, earning yet another sharp look and a small kick to his shin. He ducked his head slightly to hide his amusement, looking down at his food. “What stories did you pick out?”

“Uhh, my momma bookmarked some for us. She loved spooky stories when y’all were kids, so she knew a bunch of them from the book.”

“Is that why your bag was so heavy?” Darry asked.

“Oh, yeah. It’s a _big_ book. Momma said like seven hundred pages— did y’all know there were books _that_ long?!” he asked the Curtis parents, eyes wide and full of wonder. Mrs. Curtis gave him a sweet smile.

“Well, back in high school we had to read books like those,” she hummed, getting a gasp from the small redhead.

He looked over at his friends and muttered, “I don’t think I’m gonna like highschool.”

“You _already_ don’t like school,” Tim pointed out, laughing.

“I like history!”

“That’s _only_ history.”

Mr. Curtis took a sip from his coffee mug, lips tightly shut and curved into a smile, desperately wanting to laugh. Kids could be so stupid at times, but it served for good entertainment after a long day.

After more banter between the children, they were finally done with their supper. Mrs. Curtis wanted to ask them to help wash the dishes, keep them inside for a while longer, but she could tell they were getting antsy having sat there for so long. “Go and head out now,” she murmured to them, causing the boys all to straighten their backs, excited like it had been announced there was a substitute teacher teaching that day. 

The trio all hopped out of their seats and dashed for their stuff. Shoes were haphazardly tugged on, and bags were tossed over shoulders, then there were quick footsteps out the door. 

“Thank you!” Darry shouted before slamming the door shut. 

They fought against the harsh winds and climbed into the treehouse, closing the hatch tightly once they and their bags were all inside. Two-Bit shuddered as he fell onto the mound of blankets Darry set up in the fort. “Gosh, it really is cold,” he muttered, tugging a soft blanket over his shoulders, suddenly missing all the layers his mother forced him to wear.

“Well, we got all the blankets I could find in the house, we should be fine,” Darry hummed, plopping down beside the redhead. “So, you said you had scary stories?”

“Uh, yeah. I do,” Two-Bit said, reaching out to drag his bag close to him. He unzipped it and began digging deep to find the book, tossing pajamas and other clothes onto the floor. Finally, he tossed the heavy book into Darry’s lap, making him jolt from the weight, and he began picking up his mess. “Momma marked a few of ‘em with some papers.”

Darry nodded and flipped to the first one, glancing the words over in the dim light of the lantern he forgot to turn off before going back inside that morning. Tim glanced over his shoulder and scrunched up his nose a bit, a judgmental look on his face. “This seems like a baby story,” he commented, gaze moving to Two-Bit’s face. “Did _you_ pick this book out?”

Two-Bit slouched. “Well… yeah…”

“Typical.”

“They ain’t baby stories, though!” he squeaked out, his voice cracking, making Tim laugh.

“Yeah, sure.”

He frowned, and Darry huffed. “Tim, knock it off already. Who knows? The stories may be organized by how scary they are.”

“They aren’t organized like that. Stories are never organized like that.”

“You never know.”

Darry brought the lantern closer and hunched over the book, lower lip stuck out in focus as he got used to the pacing and words of the story. After a moment, he parted his lips and began.

“The Legend of the Bell Witch.”

As he read the story, the other two huddled close to read along with him. Two-Bit's mouth was slightly agape, eyes wide at the suspense of the story, his bones stiff. Tim remained stoic, eyes scanning the words as Darry spoke them, making small comments when there was an “unbelievable” part to the story.

“You think Kate’s gonna find us?” Two-Bit asked at the end, practically snuggled up to his friend’s side. 

Tim scoffed. “It’s not real.”

“But this is a book of _true_ stories!”

“Books lie all the time.”

Two-Bit shut his mouth and stayed close to Darry’s side, murmuring for him to go to the next story his mother marked for them. The older boy complied, and before he even got to the scary part, Two-Bit was shaking. The wind was so much more scary whistling through the cracks in each of the wooden boards, adding to the impact of the story.

He hated it.

“Can… can you stop readin’ please?” the redhead whispered, earning yet another scoff from Tim.

“Tim, don’t even start,” Darry snapped before turning his attention to Two-Bit. “You okay?”

Two-Bit nodded. “Do we got cards or somethin’ up here instead?”

“Yeah. Tim, you down for a bit of poker or slapjack?”

“I guess.”

They moved further up the mound, sitting in a shape that looked almost like a circle. Tim was sitting against the cold wall of the treehouse, and Darry and Two-Bit in front of him, a third of the deck in each of their hands.

“Who’s startin’?” Tim asked, shuffling his cards, eyeing them in case one of them showed their value as he moved his hands.

“I can,” Darry offered, and he smacked down his first card. Then the game began, going around the circle allowing them to place their cards then race to smack a jack first.

Darry, Tim, Two-Bit.

Darry, Tim— SMACK!

Two-Bit— SMACK.

Darry, Tim— it went on many rounds, the prizes being bags of chips Darry snuck up earlier in the day when his parents were out. So far, they were all equally matched, the luck almost even to each of them. Each had a chip bag in their laps, and the cards were starting to get greasy from their fingers, making it almost hard to pick cards off the top of their decks. 

“Kei— Two, pass me your chips,” Tim muttered when they took a break, their palms red and stinging.

“They’re mine, though.”

“Share them, c’mon.”

“No!”

“C’mon!”

“N—”

A sudden growl of thunder made Two-Bit straighten his spine, nearly throwing the bag to Tim out of fear. The treehouse then filled with the sound of angry pattering against the roof, a drop of rain landing on the back of Two-Bit’s neck, making him scramble near Darry. 

“God damn it, Two-Bit,” Tim grumbled, picking up the chips that fell out of the bag from the throw, not wanting to lay on crumbs later or waste food. He looked up at the boy, eyes already fixed into a glare, but he paused before an insult left his lips. 

The redhead was immediately curled up to Darry’s side, shaking under the arm the older boy wrapped around his shoulders. His anger and annoyance fizzled out of him immediately. He was actually scared. Odd, but how? People would think eleven-year-olds would be fearless at their age, unbothered from kiddy stories and a little storm.

He almost felt bad. Ok, he _did_ feel bad. 

More thunder shook the tree, and the more scared Two-Bit looked, so small curled up. 

He was going to be made fun of this later.

Tim sighed softly and left the wall to sit on the other side of Two-Bit, placing a hand on his back stiffly. He wasn’t the most educated on how to comfort someone. Curly, Angela, and him didn’t do that kind of thing. Ever. However, he knew he wasn’t doing something right because Two-Bit jumped at the touch, teary eyes fearfully looking at him.

Ouch. That wasn’t a good feeling.

He analyzed how Darry was holding him, an arm loose yet secure around him. He moved to mirror the action, his body still stiff as he gave the embrace. Darry held back a laugh from the other’s attempt to comfort their friend. He was trying, for once, which was a change well welcomed by him.

“Nothing’s gonna hurt you,” Darry assured Two-Bit, his soft hiccups and gasps saddening to hear. He placed his chin on his head and glanced at Tim as a small gesture to indicate he can move closer.

Tim did, his other arm awkwardly coming to hug the boy. He flinched at the sound of another rumble of thunder, feeling Two-Bit tense up from the sound. Never did he think that someone could feel such a way over just some angry weather. It… It was sad.

“Maybe we should’ve listened to your ma, Dar,” he whispered to Darry.

Darry frowned and nodded. “Yeah,” he muttered, looking down at Two-Bit. “I’m sorry.”

Two-Bit wiped at his eyes. “S’okay…”

“No, no it ain’t.”

“‘M just a crybaby. It’s fine.”

“You’re not a crybaby. Where’d you get that idea?” Darry gasped, arm tightening around him. Two-Bit’s eyes darted sadly to Tim, making him awkwardly looking away.

“Hey, Tim don’t mean anythin’ he says,” Darry quickly assured, giving Tim the chance to redeem himself, a tactic his mother used expertly when he and his brothers got into fights with each other.

“Yeah, I don’t mean it…” Tim mumbled, the words odd coming from him. They didn’t seem right with his voice. His voice was never made for such words.

Two-Bit wiped at his eyes again, staring at Tim’s face, brow creased with confusion. Tim looked back over and stared back, his expression uncomfortable. He cracked a small smile.

“You forgive me if I say sorry?”

“Maybe.”

“Well, I’m sorry.”

Two-Bit pressed his lips together, tears still slipping from his eyes silently. He sighed softly and whispered, “It’s okay…”

Tim leaned closer into the embrace and made his arms tighter around Two-Bit as he continued to sob. However, he was much more quiet now, less tense when thunder continued to wreak its havoc. Darry pulled a blanket over the three of them, then another. 

They fell asleep that way, all wrapped up in each other’s arms, warm under layers and layers of blankets. 

Mrs. Curtis came up to check up on them in the morning, her heart tight with worry when seeing the rain-spotted windows when she went to make breakfast. She lifted the hatch carefully, her eyes widening at the heartwarming sight. The blankets weren’t even wet with rain. 

She sighed with relief, and she glanced around in case there were any wet spots on the wood she would have to inform her husband of later. She instead saw the bags of the chips she had tried hiding from Darry and softly gasped. 

She was going to scold him later for that, for now, she let them sleep, shutting the hatch as she climbed down the damp ladder.


End file.
